


ZERO COMPANY, COLONIAL MARINES:  OLD SOLDIERS  by  Paul Oakley

by Galacticon4Winners



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:33:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4594728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galacticon4Winners/pseuds/Galacticon4Winners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joint runner up in the Galacticon4 fanfiction competition, Zero Company shows a Cylon-Human skirmish, early in the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ZERO COMPANY, COLONIAL MARINES:  OLD SOLDIERS  by  Paul Oakley

**Author's Note:**

> The judges said: "Intelligent writing with a strong narrative voice. The omniscient narration style is wry and sardonic, conveying fast-paced action with vivid description and imagery. The writer shows a sure hand in characterisation, and does so with commendable brevity, getting across vivid pictures in only a few words. For example, “Corporal Carver Riley Mann loved being a Marine. He even told people he loved it, which is a very Marine thing to do.” — lovely narrative voice, there! Or “Doc concentrated, healed and moved on to the next for the longest period of time anyone had ever seen him without a cigarette in his mouth.” So much conveyed in so few words."

   Tales from the Battlestar Galactica Universe

“ZERO COMPANY, COLONIAL MARINES:

 OLD SOLDIERS”

By Paul Oakley

“I remember the first time I died.”

He remembered every time he had died fighting humans. Cylon Centurion model Terrestrial Infantry Marauder (TIM) Number 1138, was thinking back over fifty years to his original contact with humans. Back to a time when he was new and the War with humans was young. That first meeting was a great and glorious battle against their former masters. His performance was his most outstanding ever, right up to the point where he was killed.

Fortunately for him and other Centurions, his memory was automatically downloaded into his ship server, to be rebooted later into another TIM body. There was electronic resurrection long before there was resurrection for biological Cylons like skin-jobs and ships. Buffering and reloading an electronic brain into a mechanical body is much easier than resurrecting a biological one. It’s where they got the idea for “bio-resurrection”. And thanks to a defective implant meant to suppress free will in Centurions, TIM could “think”. And he thought it ironic that a race of slave Cylons gained their freedom and used it to enslave their own lower class.

That was a time when his model Centurion Marauders were state-of-the-art, heavy duty blunt instruments of destruction: Classic Centurions. Those were the days of iron ships and iron Cylons. Not like these new wimpy plug-and-play Raider fighter craft, or the flimsy designer Basestars and Centurions, or, worst of all, the crybaby human looking skin-jobs complete with emotions and egos. They even tried putting emotions in Centurions. TIM heard one scream in pain once. Can you possibly imagine how useless he thought that troop was going to be in the Final War?

Back in the First War against the humans TIM’s Cylon Centurion Cohorts were deep penetration experts, raids and ambushes behind enemy lines being their specialty. The second year of the First War found them using Faster-Than-Light (FTL) engines with superior red line range to jump undetected into the solar shadow of gas giant Hera near Libris Colony. Being inside the human Colonies home system was dangerous, since Battlestars would doubtless be in the area. But the shock of an attack in home space, as well as a good chance of surprising a smaller unescorted Colonial vessel made the potential gains of intelligence and morale very appealing. Only much later did the humans realize it was also a rehearsal for a more significant and famous attack to come in the future.

 

 

This battle was going to be infamous in its own right. Hiding behind one of the unoccupied moons of Hera, the Heavy Raider vessels of TIM’s Cohort picked up the signature of a small Fleet Auxiliary. That ship would be remembered through both so-called Cylon Wars. It was the _Brenik_. And on board was teenage Gunner’s Mate Saul Tigh, the future Executive Officer of the Battlestar Galactica.

The son of a military pilot and grandson of a ranking adviser to the government, Saul was estranged from both. He only needed the gene pool, not the people. That would eventually bring him to well earned success as a pilot and military professional in spite of his demons. To him, Fleet was Family, and the only one he needed. But success was still a long way off. The future hard drinking, hard living angry old man was already a hard drinking, hard living angry young man when he served on the _Brenik_. He had made grade to Gunner’s Mate before only to lose it and his temper indulging in his favorite pass time, a bar fight. It would not be the last time he would lose rank and reason. “Anger will keep you alive, fear will get you killed” was his very favorite quote, always used without credit to the source. Anger, he knew, gave you focus and energy. You cannot be afraid if you are boiling mad, and you can attempt things that would freeze most people with fear. His leadership style and people skills were said to have all the subtlety of a hand grenade in a shower stall, with similar property damage. He did have friends, since young people will hang out where excitement happens, especially socially unacceptable excitement.

One of these friends was a young Doctor named Sherman Cottle, serving his initial medical internship. He was born to his trade, son and grandson of doctors. He had all the tools: brilliant, confident to a fault, and strong willed with a stern but sincere bedside manner. It was said he could close a gash with three stitches on a fruit fly and leave no scar. “Doc” was known to patch up enemies as well as friends. His morals and fortitude had only one flaw: smoking. He was trying to stop…….for the thirteenth time.

Among these friends on the _Brenik_ was another teenager. Corporal Carver Riley Mann loved being a Marine. He even told people he loved it, which is a very Marine thing to do. Carver liked Saul. Not because he enjoyed the mayhem, but because he was fascinated by Saul’s success with chaos. He didn’t want to save Saul from his actions so much as he wanted to participate in them. Like all good friends they had some things in common. But it was their differences that made their friendship so strong, because every self-determined weakness one of them had was more than made up for by strength the other had in the same trait. Where Saul used force of personality and volume to win friends and influence people, Carver could identify with and charm most anyone on any subject. Where Saul delivered information as blunt truth un-tempered by tact, Carver provided answers that, while usually true, were very useful to all parties.  Saul was soon to be an accomplished pilot and deck officer, a master at strategic military goals. Carver was very adept at edged weapons and firearms, liked to deal with a problem up close and personal, and could apparently be invisible when it suited him. It was said he could trick an opponent, negotiate a tactical maze, steal the cheese and be home before morning. Carver was driven by who he was as much as Saul. That is why just being a Colonial Marine was not quite enough for him, he wanted more.

Private Mann had been one of very few new recruits to score high enough on physical, intelligence and psychological tests to be accepted to Colonial Marine Recon School. He was one of even fewer graduates of that school to go directly to Marine Special Operations Command School (MARSOC). He was an honor graduate of both. Carver was posted to the Marine Special Operations Regiment, known in the Fleet as the “Black Watch”, said to be the color of their hearts. Now Corporal Mann was billeted to Team Three, Third Platoon, Oscar Company “Proud Rifles”. The twenty-four companies operated independently and were designated by letters such as “O” or “Oscar Company”. The Fleet was always big on call signs and nicknames as a morale booster, there was a war on, you know. Somewhere along the line, someone thought “O” Company looked more like “Zero” Company and the name stuck. No self respecting Marine would ever let someone know that an insult was effective, so they took it as their own. It did result in a few sailors and Marines getting beat up when a lack of respect was detected in the use of the name.

Carver, Saul, “Doc” and their friend Duncan Rafferty were in the _Brenik_ enlisted mess deck, lamenting their misfortunes over coffee. In everyone’s eyes but “Doc”, they were paid professional killers being denied an opportunity to ply their trade and win the glory they deserved. Stuck on a little boat in a safe rear area does not enhance a warrior’s career. It was funny. The _Brenik_ was on what Fleet sailors called a “milk run”: little value, little danger, maximum boredom. They carried a load of small arms explosive ammunition and ship-to-ship non-nuclear missiles for close quarter defense. Passing the gas giant Hera near Libris Colony the _Brenik_ was on her way from Ragnar Anchorage to the inner planets for Fleet resupply. Seventy-five souls were doing their jobs. Many of them would not survive this day. Three young men who had not seen battle or a dead body were discussing a war over coffee. Seventy-five souls were about to enter that war, some for the first time and many for the last.

 

 

TIM was in the lead Cylon Heavy Raider assault ship. The passive scan screens clearly showed a target of the desired profile: small Fleet vessel, lightly armed, transporting war materials, and of a class that carried less than one hundred crew members. It also showed clean of any other contacts within scan range. The Cylon Squadron Commander issued the attack order and launch time, and received the required acknowledgment from the Team Leaders of “By your command.”

 

 

At 18:13 ship’s time the flashing light alarm beacons and “General Quarters” claxon horns went off throughout the _Brenik_. The Watch Officer came on the com system: “General Quarters, General Quarters, this……” At that moment the Electro Magnetic Pulse missiles hit the communication arrays while kinetic rounds hit the main drive and port side gun turrets.

On the Bridge the ship’s Captain, Lieutenant Christine Wise, was very conscious of the dire nature of her situation. “Status!” she barked.

The reports came instantly: “ Comm down, arrays fried, jamming on all frequencies”; “Main engines and FTL off line”; “Only one port gun turret responding”; “Hull intact, no venting or fires”; “Lieutenant, DRADIS limited due to Hera planet clutter, now I have eight Cylon Heavy Raider craft closing to port, six centons to contact”.

Wise began to fight the ship in a manner that would earn her a medal for valor, albeit posthumously: “Helm, fire docking thrusters, roll the ship over 180 degrees to bring the starboard turrets to bear on the enemy; Gunnery Officer, send all gun crews to starboard batteries except for port side number three; Pilots to the hanger, launch both shuttles, move away and broadcast Flash sit-rep message to Fleet as soon as clear; Master at Arms, open all weapons lockers and issue ordnance to all hands; Marines to the landing bay and cargo loading hatches, prepare to repel boarders, prepare scuttling charges; Doc Cottle, casualties on port gun deck”. Then she delivered the bad news to the crew: “All hands, this is Brenik Actual; we are under attack by Cylon ships, boarding imminent, all hands will be issued weapons. We will hold off the enemy until relief forces arrive. I expect you all to do your duty. That is all.”

 _Not an admiral’s speech_ , she thought, _but it’ll do_.

It was now 18:15 ship’s time.

In the mess deck Saul, Carver and Duncan had recovered and scattered for their duty stations before the “Old Man”, twenty-seven year old Wise, had begun to speak. Saul and Carver to the stern where the hanger and Saul’s starboard number five turret was located, and Duncan to the port cargo hold amid ship, forward of the starboard cargo hold. Doc responded to the casualty report, carrying his little black bag and cigarettes.

Saul’s rail guns turret was already warmed up when he arrived, so the three crew and guns were now “in battery”. He noticed the ship’s rotation and realized the Captain was rolling his guns toward the enemy approach. The “Fire as your guns bear” command showed on the targeting panel, as did the blips of eight approaching targets. Saul calculated that over a hundred and twenty Cylon killing machines were inbound to a ship with seventy-five crew, many of whom were cooks, clerks, mechanics and other “non-combatants”. _Well, boys and girls,_ he thought, _today everybody fights_. He clicked off all the safety mechanisms and laid in his first firing solution.

Actually, it was one hundred and sixty Centurions headed for the _Brenik_. The Cylon Leadership didn’t just want a victory, they wanted shock and awe. Not with a simple nuclear blast, but with a good old fashioned street fight on a human home town street. And the bullies were inbound. The attacking Squadron Leader observed the rotation of the enemy vessel and ordered a second set of kinetics to be directed at the batteries coming into view and about to begin firing on his ships. Three Heavy Raider ships broke off toward the _Brenik_ stern landing bay, while one each headed for the starboard and port cargo loading hold hatches, and one headed for the bow and two remained in reserve. Then he saw an enemy shuttle launch at full thrust.

Doc found a mess on the port gun deck and called for more corpsmen and supplies. He began to treat the first of what would be many casualties in a long day.

After a stop in the starboard cargo airlock to make some defense adjustments, Carver reached the stern hanger bay at the very rear of the ship. He had only a Fire Team of Zero Company Marines. They were originally assigned to this trip to protect the cargo from gang and black market privateer theft more than anything else. Now he had maybe two Centurion Cohorts coming down on six Marines, two pilots and sixty-seven sailors, many of which hadn’t fired a weapon since basic. His men were at the hanger because this is where the main breach would come. The two shuttles had just launched.

It was reassuring to see young Marines prepping for battle: topping off magazines, sharpening knives, each preparing in their own way, but with a calm confidence. He was very proud. He was also wondering why the Cylons didn’t do much: they didn’t nuke the _Brenik_ ; they didn’t flame it; and they didn’t poke holes in it to let all the air out, a procedure known as venting. These toasters, he concluded, were definitely planning on paying us a visit, making a mess and then taking home some souvenirs, maybe a few live ones.

He spoke to his Team, “Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that there’s only gonna’ be a hundred and forty or so Toasters on the menu tonight, so let’s not be greedy. When they blow the door, concentrate on the pilots, then shift fire to their exit hatches. Fire from behind second level rail in case the hanger doesn’t reseal. If they make it to us, fall back to the ammo skids in the cargo bays, that’s what they’re here for. Anybody makes it, call home for those that don’t, ‘cept don’t call for me ‘cause I want my gang to still think I’ll show up and kick their butts. It’s been a business doin’ pleasure with you. Love ya, mean it, see you on the other side.”

And then came one last big Marine Team “OOOORAHHHH!!!” The Marines could hear the second volley of enemy kinetics impacting the starboard side of the ship, followed immediately by a lone rail gun firing in response.

The two Colonial shuttles launched from the _Brenik_ in a staggered time frame. Lead Pilot Ajax had won the Cubit flip so he launched first. His job was to make a scene, be seen and hopefully draw any Cylon pursuit away from Buzz who launched second. The plan was for Buzz to get away clean to raise the alarm to get Battlestar Support. The plan was a little vague on what Ajax was to do once he was followed by Cylons. There’s an old Marine saying that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and Murphy’s law was home that day. Ajax got plenty of attention as planned, and one of the reserve Heavy Raptors immediately broke in his direction. When Buzz came out of the hanger second, he flew right into the Raiders preparing to knock on the _Brenik_ ’s back door, and received an air-to-air missile in the nose cone for his trouble.

Ajax wasn’t doing much better, with a bandit closing on his six. He figured the planet scatter that interfered with his systems was just as bad for the Heavy Raider, and the super giant’s gravity would only add to dive speed. His transmissions were still being jammed so he dove at full throttle for the big ball in the sky. He felt good for a moment. The Cylon didn’t care at all for screaming into the planet. The toaster did however have some very impressive missiles, several of which he gladly sent after Ajax before he broke off pursuit. One of these very neatly sheared off the entire starboard engine nacelle. It wasn’t an immediate death blow, but escaping the gravity of a power dive into a gas giant is unlikely with both engines. With only one engine it falls into the “you are not gonna’ like how this ends” category. And for good measure the Shuttle skin heat build-up from the atmosphere was way beyond anything the operator manual approved. _Well_ , he thought, _Daddy did say I should fly Vipers_.

Gunner’s Mate Saul Tigh had a front row seat for the gun fight, and it wasn’t pretty. The Cylons would be able to shoot at the starboard gun batteries before he could shoot back. It was a simple matter of firing their rounds timed to arrive just as the batteries rotated into view. The _Brenik_ had to see the Raiders before shooting. Saul didn’t like it. It made him mad. Being mad made him dangerous. He sat there waiting for the enemy fire to impact. He didn’t have to wait long. It shook him and burned him, and injured his crew. But when the shock passed he had one functioning kinetic cannon, a clear shot at a shiny new Heavy Raider and a very bad attitude. His conductive slugs were accelerated by the magnetic rail system to eight thousand seven hundred kilometers per hour. They arrived at the Cylon ship with a force equal to a loaded cement truck doing one hundred and twenty kilometers per hour. The Empire was now missing a Heavy Raider and a large number of toasters.

Saul’s first kill was a small success in a sea of disaster, but it gained the _Brenik_ a few more centons to prepare. Enough time to move assets and prepare defensive positions. Doc was able to move supplies and existing casualties to the starboard cargo hold and set up shop.  Sure enough Corporal Carver Mann and the Skipper were correct. The main Cylon assault would come through the stern landing bay and cargo hold hatches. His six Zero Company Marines, now reinforced by a dozen sailors, defended that area and carried only small arms. Fortunately, due to the _Brenik_ ’s cargo, they had an endless supply of small arms grenades. Unfortunately if they fell back to the cargo holds neither side could use explosives or heavy rounds due to the same cargo. That would end the party with a big bang. It’s also the reason the crew placed the scuttling charges in that location, meant to destroy the ship, cargo and crew rather than let them be captured. Nothing is as exciting as tossing fireworks around on an ammunition ship.

TIM was over the combat display screen in the lead Cylon assault ship. They had the _Brenik_ stopped, with no communications, her two shuttle craft neutralized and her defenses virtually disarmed. They were now closing rapidly on the _Brenik_ ’s weakest points where they would breech and board her. All for the cost of one Heavy Raider. The story goes that the Cylons have a red eye because they use it to seek the blood of their creators. It was time for TIM’s Centurions to go to work.

Saul dragged his two wounded gun crew to safety from their now useless station. He knew where the next action would take place and he intended to be there. Heading for the nearby cargo hatch he didn’t worry about finding a weapon. He was pretty sure several would be lying around there soon.

Carver Mann checked his defensive positions one last time, ending up in the hanger bay. He thought about this being his first and maybe only combat. _Well, if you’ve only got one fight in ya, it might as well be one they’ll write songs about_ , he thought. He called out to the Marines and crew, “Okay folks, let’s see if the government got their money’s worth for all that training they gave ya.  Equipment check and saddle up, ear and eye protection, NOW. Lock and load.”

A loud chorus of voices came back with “OOOORAHHHH.”

Just then a Cylon shape-charge disintegrated the main hanger doors. Three Heavy Raiders lumbered in and skidded to a stop, one behind the other, showering the entire hanger with smoke, sparks and debris, triggering the backup hanger door seals. All three had their search lights on attempting to blind the defenders, as well as high volume sonic speakers. The lead ship partially shielded the other two, but it lined up the side exit doors perfectly. The Marines fired down the sides of all three craft, hitting any Centurions charging out of any door without shifting fire. The sailors on the side mezzanines fired directly into the assault doors. The small arms grenades worked well when on target, but precise small arm hits were required to take these Centurions down, and they were absorbing most of the incoming fire. Sixty machines were too many to handle, and the defenders were taking casualties.

Cylon teams gained the far end of mezzanines on both sides and began clearing the hanger from the rear using this vantage. Half the crew members were down when Carver gave the withdrawal signal, yellow smoke grenades also used to obscure Cylon visibility. The sailors hustled passed the Marines at the forward end of the hanger, moving up the passages to the cargo holds. Mann and Private “Firefox” Morales were the last two covering the withdrawal from the hanger when she caught a burst of fire up the right side of her torso. Before Carver could reach out to the mortally wounded Marine, she pulled pins on hanging grenades and toppled off the mezzanine onto two Centurions. All three left the fight together. Carver Mann headed down the corridor to the cargo hold, arming claymore mines as he passed them.

The blast that opened the hanger doors was one of four the enemy used to breach and board the _Brenik_ : the large port and starboard cargo hatches and a protocol VIP airlock near the bridge. Lieutenant Wise, the CO, had Bridge Crew and deck hands defending the VIP airlock. Most of the crew members were at the other breach points. She had side arms and carbines, and not many crew skilled at using them. Corporal Mann had sent up two homemade satchel charges for her use. She put one inside the airlock and wired it to the outer door. The other she placed in the “main street” passageway from the Bridge to the rest of the ship, and installed a delay detonator.

When the hanger doors blew, the enemy set off the other breaching charges. The first Centurions to enter the VIP airlock were blown back into their own ship. The rest of the Cylons came in shooting. Everyone knew that this bridge was never going to be used again. Most of the crew and none of the Centurions went down in the first exchange of fire. Wise pulled the survivors to “main street” on the run and tripped the delay fuse. The Cylons charged through and lost three more to the Lieutenant’s handy work. Defender and attacker, both numbers were getting smaller by the centon.

Saul Tigh made it to the starboard Cargo hatch airlock just as the Cylons breached the outer door, making an opening just big enough to perfectly dock their ship airlock to the side of the _Brenik_. The crew was set up behind the inner door, which the enemy breached fifteen microns later. The first exchange of fire felled two Centurions and six sailors. As expected, Saul picked up a side arm with grenade launcher from a fallen crewman and took out two more with the last rounds he could find. No one had to tell the survivors to withdraw to the cargo hold, they were moving that way anyway. Inside the starboard hold was a maze of containers, pallets, equipment and even a few vehicles. Strangely, the Cylons did not enter the bay. Saul took the opportunity to check a ship’s internal hard-wired comm console. He discovered that the port cargo hatch fell to the Cylons faster and with more casualties than the starboard side. The bridge had been abandoned. The first hanger defenders were arriving with their bad news. The human world on the _Brenik_ had shrunk to a very small piece of metal real estate.

With the arrival of the Lieutenant and the Marines, order settled in and defenses took shape. Saul and Carver were directed to organize a defense. Weapons were collected from all except the Lieutenant and Marines. There could be no firing in a room full of explosive ordnance until the end. This is also the reason the scuttling charges were installed in this room. Obviously the Cylons were dealing with the same problem, explaining what would be a brief pause in the attack.

Doc’s tiny medical area was filling up with patients, living and passed. Triage was quick and dirty with more thumbs down than up. The port cargo bay was abandoned to concentrate the defenders in a single defendable area. The Marines gave a brief discussion on Centurion anatomy and its few and limited weaknesses, thanks to factory drawings from Caprica. Pry bars, wrenches, hammers, boards from packing crates and anything else that could be a melee weapon were distributed. Saul’s friend Duncan Rafferty found some fire axes, and gave one to Saul. The Marines slung their carbines and sharpened their standard and non-standard personal fighting blades. This fight was going to end on a personal note.

Cylon Centurion TIM 1138 and his Cohorts were moving in with bare hands and blades. To a Marauder Centurion any heavy object can be a weapon. Truth is Centurions are notoriously bad shots, it’s a near-sighted thing. TIM preferred the Cylon short sword. A human once said: “Cut a thing in two or remove the head and the job is usually done.” _And it’s easier to bring a few home_ , he thought. If TIM were human, you would say he was confident.

A Centurian is like a tank, the weakest armor is in the back. A Cylon doesn’t care, he never runs away. The only ways into the cargo hold were the main hatch to starboard and a personnel hatch to the stern hanger. The Cylons hammered both open.

Only one toaster at a time could come through the personnel door. The first one through the small door headed for a deck hand a few feet away. As soon as the Centurion moved inside the room, Saul’s friend Duncan Rafferty smashed him with an ax in the small of the back. The next Cylon came through the door toward Rafferty. He was smashed in the small of the back by a Marine hiding on the other side of the door. And so on, and so on. It worked for a while. Saul ran to the hatch to check on his friend. Rafferty tired and his swings slowed down. His next hit was not a kill. When he took a second swing that did kill his target the next Cylon through the door quite literally cut him in half. Saul Tigh screamed, charged and killed both Cylons now inside the door. Tigh held the door for another ten centons, losing eight more crew and delaying the Cylon advance until ordered to withdraw.

Three at a time came through the Cargo door. The first three chased a cook into the cargo stacks. As the aisles grew narrower they began to follow one after another single file. Further into the stacks, the Cylons began to disappear.  A clerk hiding in the stacks smashed the last Centurion in line from behind as it walked by. Two aisles later a mechanic reached out with a small power saw and cut through a toaster spine. It worked for a while. TIM was inside now and noticed casualties were randomly lying in the bay. He ordered combat spacing between troops in larger numbers. When the next large Cylon Team moved into the aisles, Carver Mann organized forklift trucks to race down the way smashing the Teams into piles that blocked the enemy advance. A small enemy Team scaled the racks against the forward bulkhead and moved toward the crew rear area. As the Cylon point man scrambled through an empty rack space he was met by a welder that torched his helmet through the eye.

Doc Cottle’s station was looking more like a morgue than a hospital. Blood was everywhere and screams filled the air. Seriously wounded were courageously trying to drag themselves out of the area and back to the fight. It was said no one alive that saw it would ever sleep well again. Yet Corporal Mann, checking on the wounded, was awestruck by the scene of Doc Cottle working feverishly and quickly on many wounded. One gash was held together with an office supply binder clip, one fracture was splinted with duct tape, one sailor died in mid-treatment and was quickly slid aside. Doc concentrated, healed and moved to the next for the longest period of time anyone had ever seen him without a cigarette in his mouth.

But for every Centurion crushed by falling crates, or crippled by a Marine K-Bar knife, there were an equal number of humans strangled, or cut to pieces. Slowly the human controlled area was shrinking. The Cylons paused and held back, but only because they were running out of potential prisoners. TIM raised his voice and asked Lieutenant Wise to surrender.

Wise responded, “Let me talk to my crew.”

Ten centons later, twenty-four un-armed humans in space suits emerged from the racks, some walking, some carried by others.

“Strange,” stated TIM, “but acceptable.” He couldn’t pick out any surviving Marines in the suits, but he made a mental note to find and deal with them later. The captives moved slowly toward the cargo hatch airlock. Then TIM asked Saul “Which one of you is the Captain?”

Saul Tigh made a mental note of scars and unit marking on this Cylon, for future reference, then said “She’s back by the bulkhead.”

TIM marched to the human command post where Lieutenant Wise was standing over some of her dead crew, wearing a space suit. TIM addressed Wise, “I appreciate your regard for your crew, but it’s time to leave Captain.”

Wise smiled, and pressed a switch on the bulkhead. The Cylon breach of the cargo hatch was a small docking hole. Before the Cylons boarded, the Marines laid most of their explosive material around the entire outer hatch, shaped to blow outward. The ship mechanics and painters made it look like part of the hull, and hard wired it all the way to the last human defensive position. Jammers cannot block a wired signal. When Wise hit the detonator, the force and the hatch pushed outward and through the Heavy Raider docked there. The catastrophic venting through the large opening, magnified by the outward blast propelled all the humans and a few Centurions near it away from the _Brenik_ and into space at a rapid rate.

TIM 1138 evaluated the plan and execution. It had some merit, but not much. “Captain, your plan is interesting, but has no positive results. You probably killed several more of your crew and a few of mine. We still have six ships, you and your cargo. We will take your cargo and pick up your floating crew on departure. And, most importantly, scanners show no one in your Fleet has noticed your situation.”

Wise was still smiling. “Actually the plan was from a gunner’s mate and a Marine Corporal and I like it. I changed it, but just a little. They wanted to do this part…….” She leaned over on a crate and touched a second switch, also hard wired.

This wire was very short, to a detonator placed in a relatively small amount of explosive in a very large room full of things that go boom. The _Brenik,_ five Cylon ships, the cargo, and a very surprised Cylon Centurion Marauder Model Number 1138 participated in an event that did indeed attract the attention of Colonial Fleet personnel on two Colonies and three Battlestars. And a great Captain went down with her ship.

Once they shot into space, the surviving Marines dug out hidden side arms and dispatched the three Centurions traveling with them. After that, the _Brenik_ crew needed two things: enough distance to survive the final blast, and for there to actually be a blast.

Carver went helmet to helmet with Saul to talk without broadcasting. “You ok?” the Marine asked. He thought Tigh had not come to grips with the horror of the day, especially witnessing the death of his friend Rafferty. Saul didn’t respond right away, and then part of the sky blew up. After the flash died down, Carver no longer saw the _Brenik_ or the Cylon ships around it. He did see the Heavy Raider held in reserve some distance away from the detonation. It concerned him at first. Then he saw it turn away and FTL jump out of the system. Turns out Cylon standing operating procedure is for a last surviving ship to return to base. Go figure.

It wasn’t long before the Battlestar _Athena_ arrived and, under heavy Viper cover, rescued the twenty souls that had survived ejection from the _Brenik_ and her subsequent destruction. All of them spent quite a bit of time in extensive debriefing. The government wasn’t about to let negative publicity impact the war effort. Next of kin were given medals and fabricated stories of real heroism. Survivors were promoted, scattered, and silenced. All were changed, some moved on, and some never recovered.

A young medical intern named Sherman Cottle went on to be a chain smoking world class healer with a bad attitude. He would become famous for lecturing powerful people, reinforced by his irritating habit of being right all the time.

Gunner’s Mate Saul Tigh elevated drinking and anger to religious levels, through two wars and very little personal peace. Neither prevented him from becoming an Ace Viper Pilot, and, after many ups and downs, a field grade Bridge Officer.

Now a Sergeant, Carver Riley Mann returned to the job and Family he loved: Zero Company, Colonial Marines Special Operations Regiment. He did well. Turns out he always had a knack for his profession, and for bringing people home. It was said he could trick an opponent, negotiate a tactical maze, steal the cheese and be home before morning. Such people are very popular in fox holes.

 

 

Sometime after the fight on the _Brenik_ , Cylon Centurion model Terrestrial Infantry Marauder (TIM) Number 1138 rebooted and awoke in his shiny new body. Dying was a new experience for him and he found it interesting and unpleasant. His memories and experiences were captured in a routine periodic wireless download at just about the instant the _Brenik_ exploded. As a Cohort Leader this was standard procedure. Valuable lessons were learned. TIM gained more experience in over fifty years of conflict with humans.

Three years before the Final War the legendary Battlestar Commander William Adama and TIM’s old friend Saul Tigh were in charge of the Battlestar _Valkerye_. When they launched a stealth mission into Cylon space, it was TIM that orchestrated the capture of the pilot, Lieutenant David Novacek. His interrogation led to changes in Cylon policy and strategy.

TIM’s unit participated in the destruction of Scorpion Shipyards Colonial Base at the beginning of the Final War. His Team boarded the Battlestar _Pegasus_ there in an unsuccessful attempt to capture the legendary Admiral Helena Cain. As a result, he was assigned to the Team hunting down the _Pegasus_ after it escaped.

It was TIM’s job to write the “Order of Battle Book” on Cain and the _Pegasus_ , detailing everything known about both. His most memorable entry came after the Centurions boarded and captured the civilian Colonial ship _Scylla_. The _Pegasus_ had been there first and done things to its inhabitants only Cylons could appreciate. Cain and the _Pegasus_ fascinated TIM.

TIM led a raid on a human settlement on the day the First War ended. His Team captured many humans, including children. He particularly remembered confronting one young girl that raised a small knife to defend herself. Before he could deal with her, general recall sounded, and the Cylons withdrew.

Looking back over fifty years, TIM remembered, if not enjoyed, all the times he died. And he felt there would be more to come, more stories to tell. After all, _Pegasus_ and _Galactica_ were still out there. And as some obscure human once said: “Old soldiers never die.”

 


End file.
